Sunday, February 11, 2007

Lemon, lime and honey, everywhere.

Sunday morning, 6 am, the day like a blissful calm unruffled pool before me, a thunderstorm which had beat on the bedroom Velux just passed. The first real day of the February holiday
"...and Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realize it's the first day of the holidays" (- The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe ).
My adults sent off to look after their grandchildren or whatever, my teenagers to have a well-earned rest from studying for bacs and brevets, a good roast dinner with friends last night, the second viral bug of the winter on the way out, one friend and one family member each on chemo seem, mercifully, to be on the way up, fingers crossed.
I made a cup of lemon and lime blossom tea with honey, and put on Tallis. Ah, Spem in alium, like drinking deep from a well of translated souls; I breathed deep and waited for the computer to come on-line, my spiritual state was deliciously elevated...
Some movement, I know not what, and my sleeve caught the cup of tisane and pulled it off the table, its contents spilling onto onto my dressing gown, my pyjama leg, the bean bag, the floor and the dog. Fortunately, my somewhat lax attention to the pooch's grooming makes for a thick coat, she was surprised rather than hurt, and the bean bag broke the fall of the mug, a favourite bone china one, which remained intact.
Amazing the spreading power of one teaspoonful of honey when diluted in half a pint of herb tea. Molly is not sure she likes the flavour as she licks it off her hindquarters, dogs are not over-fond of citrus, and having no knowledge of Proust ( less even than I...), do not appreciate lime blossom much either. She insists that the bean bag stay where it is, wet patch or no wet patch, as that's where she goes at this time of the morning. If I must focus my attention on that nasty boring computer rather than her, she should at least be parked as close as possible.
By the time I had mopped up, shed the dressing gown and made fresh tisane, Spem in alium had finished, but I am still serene, if a little sticky.
Apologies to tall girl for the apparent plagiarism; I thought of you as I was clearing up, and the fickle nature of life, fate and comestible liquids.

Someone, an actress, I forget who, had an English setter (dog) called Tallis. I so wish I'd thought of that.

7 comments:

Tall Girl said...

Spilling things is undoubtedly a universal human experience!
The link isn't working - dunno why that should be, but my desire to be visited prompts me to grumble about it!!

Lucy said...

Seems OK now... I visited you to find out!

herhimnbryn said...

Agh! I thought. She's going to say the tea went all over the computer! But no, just the forgiving hound and your pjs! Hope you were not burnt.

'Tallis', great name for a hound.

Oh, ps, I think Mr Tumnus would have enjoyed your tea!

Lucy said...

No, dear, it was not too scalding!

Avus said...

"like drinking deep from a well of translated souls" - yes, yes - that is Tallis, so well described.
I liked the juxtaposition of the spiritual with the utter chaos!

rr said...

Do you remember the siamese cat of the music teacher whose name I have forgotten? But not that of the cat - he was called Janáček.

Lucy said...

Thanks Avus.
RR, no I don't actually remember that teacher or the cat, but what a wonderful name! Sort of exotic and challenging, just like a siamese.
Of course for the pun to work, the dog has to be an English setter, which are lovely dogs but not as small and adaptable as soppy old cocker spaniels, so perhaps it's just as well I didn't think of it.